


State of Decay

by AngelicEclair



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-13 01:49:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21236147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelicEclair/pseuds/AngelicEclair
Summary: The Reader has a close encounter with Negan in Alexandria, but is interrupted. Will they ever get another chance to be alone?





	1. Where Is My Mind?

The trees down south moved in the dying breeze sensually. Lanky branches stretching out with wiry thin, Spanish moss swaying and beckoning. The air was warm, and the moth-pale gardenia had a rich, warm, boozy smell. It almost felt like a typical mid-autumn day, but there were no beeswax candles, caramel poached pears, or harvest moon bonfires with mindless chatter and ale. Instead, there was only the company and splendor of the fiery maples and the memory of that day's events – chaotic fragments of an amatory nightmare which flared and creaked like a clothesline in a brewing storm. The twilight of the memory made (Y/N) dream in despair. (Y/N) recalled the moment she stood face to face with him. She felt like she was impaled on a sharp peak of ice, quickly dissolving in the lulling heavy sea. She sat with her discomfort, mothered it, held its small, hot hand, and tried not to look the wolf in the eyes.

It was down the Christ-haunted roads with decaying signs with bold words like "God Help Me."

Coincidentally, that was all (Y/N) could manage to plea in her failing brain – _ 'God help me, God help me, God help me.' _

"Looks like I'm gonna be here for a while, awaiting your fearless leader's return and if you'd like,"

(Y/N)'s expression was as bitter as nightshade, but it was more of a performance to seem just as sickened as the rest of Alexandria was by the self-appointed leader of the Saviors.

"I think it would be enjoyable to _ screw your brains out. _"

Negan smiled earnestly, creating the delusion of warmth and depth when, in fact, he was as brittle and shallow as a mirror. Looking at him hurt, but maybe not enough. Looking at him was like poking a bruise and relishing in being able to feel something, anything at all. He should make her want to vomit for what she knew he had done, but he didn't.

Sentimentalism was hard to come by during The Trials. (Y/N) didn't know Abraham or Glen too well; therefore, she didn't have too many words on the matter. She couldn't let herself feel. It was a coping mechanism. Maybe Negan thought wrong and was preying on her just to jumble her emotions. To confuse her very core. It seemed tormenting was a favorite hobby of his. Either way, it had to be the wrong script. There had to be an astronomical mix-up. They must have floated into an alternate dimension. Maybe there weren't walkers in this one.

At this moment, (Y/N) should have been self-righteous and angry. This was the moment where she was supposed to deliver a god-shaking smack to his smug face and tell him off in a hiss of ferocity. But she didn't. The operator had to patch her back to her mind soon. She was hoping, praying to a god she didn't believe in that she didn't just feel her heart lurch back to life, like a frozen car engine.

"I mean, ya know, if you're agreeable to it."

Negan was gazing at her the way God gazed at Eve, and it made her want to rush away and cover her sin with fig leaves. But he made sin look holy, and she stood, feet planted firmly in the abyss, being kissed by shivering bliss.

Her whole soul shook with a tremulous dividedness, and a preternatural thrill vibrated throughout her limbs. He was so finely chiseled and sexy. She hated defining him as 'sexy,' but it was undeniable. For so long, she had always made an effort to not look at him, lest her brain would reel beneath the intoxicating spell of his presence. 

She looked at him, and she was instantly oppressed by deadly terror. More so of her self than of him. Her mind was decaying, not unlike the walkers. Negan's dark gaze was both reverent and challenging. It was difficult not to look away and just stare downward at her shoes.

It was funny. As (Y/N) looked back on that moment, she realized that the particular point in time, as she stood blinking dumbly, was the point at which she might have chosen to do something very much different from what she actually did. But of course, she didn't see the crucial moment for what it actually was. 

It was even funnier how (Y/N) was enjoying the delicious hatred so much, more than she could ever enjoy love. Love was temperamental. Tiring. It made lofty demands. It just used you and changed its mind. But _ hatred _was something she could use. 

She hated the way he made her feel, the way he made her question her position, her morals, the very fiber of her being. She never thought she could crave the likes of him. It had to be a flaw in her code.

Negan smiled and swept his tongue over his bottom lip. (Y/N)'s eyes traced over the smoothness of his lip, and it was if the charming theatrical curtain had dropped away, and I saw him for the first time as he really was: ambiguous, amoral neutral, whose beguiling trappings concealed a being watchful, capricious, and heartless. There was a deliberate voluptuousness that was both thrilling and repulsive. He knew exactly what he was doing, and she hated him for it. (Y/N) felt so small under his gaze, it was dizzying. She felt shamefully drunk and wanted to see his tongue elsewhere, poking, prodding, making her topple over on herself.

She kept telling herself that she was just confused. After all, it was hard to draw a sharp line between 'good' and 'bad' during the apocalypse because most people maintained a thorough shade of moral grayness. She tried to excuse the pull of her troubled mind in his direction. (Y/N) could tell Negan was terrible in nearly every way. It was clear the moment he entered and took everything with him like a galaxy-swallowing black hole.

But, as awful as it is, it was human nature to want something even if it is going to kill us.

The bass of his voice made her jump.

"Son, will you leave miss…"

"(Y/N)." She interjected quietly. 

She looked over at Carl demurely, having nearly forgotten he was right beside her. She was becoming frailer than orchid petals. 

Grunting, Negan ran his hand slowly and deliberately through his hair, as if wiping away his frustrations. As quickly as one turns on the light, his usual cocky smirk returned. He leaned back as his tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip for a brief moment before turning his attention back to her.

"(Y/N)" He repeated slowly with a leer, taking the time to let his eyes leisurely survey her body. "…Miss (Y/N) and I alone for a while? I'm sure a screwy kid like yourself has a lot he could get into, like, fuckin' …takin' the heads off of defenseless baby birds or _ something _."

Negan flashed his movie star grin at Carl. In sharp contrast, his eyes were like frozen knives.

Carl did not betray a single emotion, as usual. His scrutinizing eyes narrowed at Negan before flicking to (Y/N). He stood motionless for a moment before Negan shooed him off.

Stiffly, Carl turned and exited the front door. (Y/N) gulped. She would surely be exiled and vilified for even considering his offer.

(Y/N) hesitantly turned to Negan, who seemed to tower over her even more than before. His eyes were downcast and heavy-lidded as he regarded her hungrily.

"So, which piece of Rick's furniture do you wanna defile first?" In that moment, she felt like a proverbial sheep brought to slaughter, forced to marinate in her feverish awe. She could not comprehend what was happening. How it was happening.

(Y/N), having no idea what she had gotten herself into, rubbed the back of her neck, which was growing hot and itchy with anxiety.

"I shouldn't…Carl _ knows _…"

Negan pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head exasperatedly, throwing her a dramatic and pleading hand.

"You're an adult, you can fuck whoever the hell you damn-well, please. What are you afraid of? Little Carl running to his daddy and airing your dirty little secret?"

Negan leaned back and stroked his beard as a frisky smile slowly spread his lips.

"To be honest…man, _ oh man _, does the thought excite me. Rick The Prick, finding out one of his own, is sleeping with the enemy." Negan's voice lowered to a sensual purr, then shot back up with a surge of giddiness. "That's some grade-a shit right there."

A steady drizzle of humiliation dampened (Y/N) as she cowered in resentment towards herself. The mad restlessness was possessing her. She felt a thrill shoot straight into her womb, and she felt she must jump into the water and swim to get away from it.

"You know it's wrong if you're calling it a "dirty little secret."" She mumbled.

Ignoring (Y/N)'s observation, Negan leaned forward and laid the back of his bare left hand against her forehead before letting it slide down her cheek, lingering as if checking her temperature.

"Shit! You're sweatin' like a nun in a cucumber patch."

Taken aback by the crude comment, Negan watched (Y/N) fumble for the right words, like a fox watching a wounded bird struggle to escape. He got off on the power he had over everyone, especially women - how they would flounder and flail in front of him.

"Maybe you should lie down before ya fall down, doll."

He led her to the couch with a hand on the small of her back. (Y/N) eased down onto the cushions.

"See that? Southern fuckin' hospitality, and this ain't even my house."

(Y/N) didn't know what to do with her hands. She traced over her knuckles absentmindedly and felt her heart sink along side with the space beside her as Negan joined her on the sofa.

"_ Damn _ ," Did he ever _ stop _ talking?

He leaned closer and (Y/N) could smell the liquor on his lips.

"You fuckin' look like Little Red Riding Hood after she ran into the Big Bad Wolf. Well, Little Red, it's a long, long fuckin' way from grandma's house." He grabbed her chin, betwixt the fingers of his right hand, the cool leather sliding against her skin.

"Awooo…" He howled out long and huskily with a wide, toothy grin. It was suiting - he really was a wolf and not even trying to hide in makeshift sheep's clothing.

As he looked at (Y/N) his wry smile wavered, sensing her uneasiness.

"What? You don't find me the _ least _bit amusing?

"Am I...supposed to find you amusing?"

"That and I was hoping you'd find me _panty-drenchingly-rugged-as-fuck_ handsome, too."

(Y/N) had to stifle a giggle. He was absolutely ridiculous. 

"Well," She started. "I hate to admit it, but...I do find you...interesting. No one around here dresses or carries themselves quite like you."

"Should I take that as a compliment?" He snickered.

"Of course!" (Y/N) sputtered out hastily, not wanting to give him the impression she was insulting him for even a moment. Lucille was only feet away, sitting in a kitchen chair, after all.

"You're...so powerful. They all fear you. It's how you keep them in line. Without fear, they wouldn't be able to control themselves long enough to build society back up. It's amazing how you've done all this…"

In a strange bout of silence, Negan studied the shrinking violet of a girl for a moment.

"But...I'm also…afraid of you. So _ afraid _. You have caused a lot of pain for all of us. I really shouldn't be talking to you at all, but…"

The looming figure crowded her against the drab pillows. (Y/N) could almost feel the heat rolling off of his form.

"_Heh_. Goddamn _right _."

His hot breath fanned over the shell of (Y/N)'s ear.

"You know that little voice in the back of your head, that says the worst thing imaginable? The intrusive thoughts? The ones that make ya wonder… Is that who I am inside? Am I really that nasty?" He whispered.

"That's me, and by the looks of things, I've slipped a few nasty thoughts into that pretty little head of yours."

Negan leaned back to relish in (Y/N)'s red face.

"So, what are you thinking? You have all this resentment and confusion in regards to me...wanna fuck it out?"

(Y/N)'s shoulders heaved as she was considerably taken aback for the hundredth time. 

He laughed a wheezy laugh and placed a gloved hand dangerously high on her thigh beneath the table. His warm breath, smelling of clean, warm spice. An exhilarating shiver coursed over her and locked her muscles tight. A bolt of tantalizing heat shot down her center. She clenched her thighs together and tried to keep her breathing under control. Her body was going into self destruct mode and the sirens were blaring in her head.

"Are you getting all wet, baby? Hmm?"

(Y/N) gave a bashful smile as she stared down. Looking down was the only safe space for her.

She could hear his heavy breathing and it was crumbling her.

"Don't be ashamed. I'm only doing this because I know you're into it. I've seen your thighs snap shut every time you see me. Just like now."

Her _ traitorous _ body.

It was unlikely that anyone would notice the man getting a little too touchy under the table. The placement of his much bigger body obstructed the view between them. Negan gripped (Y/N) 's tights between his thumb and forefinger and pulled before letting them snap back against her skin. He looked drained of all sanity before his features grow stiff and serious.

"I think I'm right on the fuckin' money."

(Y/N)'s trembling hand came down to yank at her skirt as she winced at the intense throbbing that was bubbling in her loins.

"S-someone will see!"

Negan looked around.

"I don't see anyone else in here, doll. Do you?"

His hand moved in between her legs agonizingly slow before gripping her tights and ripping them in a lightning-fast jerk. (Y/N) inhaled sharply through her nose.

Trying to focus on anything but Negan, so she didn't come across as desperate for his touch as she really was, she focused on the CD player Rick had left on before he went on his run. _ Layla _by Derek and the Dominos was playing.

A calloused but warm thumb pulled her panties out of the way of a long finger eager to see if his assumption was correct.

She felt a longing so great, so sharp, she feared it would never be assuaged. The excitement of long-overdue human contact was driving her to be bold and let him touch her right there. 

His finger ran up the length of her soft, dripping slit, and she thought she would die right in his arms.

"Shit...Guess I was fuckin' right." He grumbled smugly as he rubbed her sweet wetness in between his thumb and forefinger, further humiliating (Y/N).

Deep inside her burned with the mounting need to have his fingers on her swollen, tingling bud. It was cruel to only feel the tip of his finger sweep over her tender hole for a second. She was so easy to manipulate. With just a few lethally-hot whispers, she was wrapped around his finger. She was so easily ruined by his voice, and he delighted in it.

"Would you just look at _ you _," he laughed, a little patronizingly. "You're learning a lot about yourself right now, aren't you?"

His lips hovered mere centimeters from her ear.

"Now, tell me (Y/N). Do you want more?"

Suddenly, the door swung open with a creak, and Rick was back with Carl trailing behind him. Negan turned from (Y/N) and smiled at the two in the foyer, hopping up from the couch.

"Rick!" He exclaimed histrionically. "Took you fuckin' long enough."

Rick was reluctant to look Negan in the eye just as (Y/N) was reluctant to look at any of the three. Before she turned away, her eyes caught on Carl, who was glaring at her. There was concern tinged with animosity in his eye.

(Y/N) never again had the opportunity to have a dirty little secret with Negan and often daydreamed about almost being pounded mercilessly into Rick's couch again and again.

The feared and exalted leader of the Saviors had nearly buried his fingers inside her right then and there. (Y/N) had never been so disappointed to see Rick Grimes in her life.


	2. The Sweetest Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween!

It was autumn again, years later, and October reigned crisp and golden as an apple. It looked like the world was covered in a cobbler crust of brown sugar and cinnamon dust. Walkers hobbled along the riverbank and with similar clumsiness, (Y/N) walked into Negan's cell. 

(Y/N) had kept a close eye on Negan as he transformed from feared leader to just another Alexandrian worker, tending to crops and disposing of garbage. He had traded in his signature leather jacket for a simple button-down shirt and often wore a ratty baseball cap to shield himself from the indignant sun. He was given a short leash, but a leash all the same. Being under constant surveillance when not stowed away behind bars, the cold, silent stars his only companions. 

When the Alexandrians were first preparing Negan's cell, they made a point to only allow him the necessary amenities and nothing more. As their grasp on the former leader of the Savior's became looser, Negan brought in a potted plant to liven up the gloomy-gray space. 

(Y/N) had locked eyes with Negan through the tiny barred window a few times, earning her winks and cocky smirks. In a way, it was a relief to know Negan was more or less the same man - still just as full of himself. She was just as eager to be full of him too. 

The way he would sigh out, wipe his brow, and stretch his cramped legs after kneeling in the soil for hours would always garner (Y/N) 's attention. It was if he made sure to make his exhale and tired groans as sultry and suggestive as possible. Knowing Negan, it was not just a stretch of the imagination. He knew she was watching as she plucked sun-ripe berries from their bushes.

Negan's prideful boasting and swaggering was a tad more subdued given his new position, but his smile was still that of a know-it-all Casanova. He was not quite ready to hang it up and still craved endless notches in his belt, but his smooth-talking fell on deaf ears. No one seemed to talk to Negan more than was necessary. It was a shame. Despite his arguably demented nature, he was a fascinating brain to pick. It was never the same roundabout small talk that people chirped at one another day after day just to get by. With him, there was substance, even if his grisly language made him sound half-baked. 

(Y/N) clutched the strap of her bag and forced a friendly smile.

"Why, if it isn't Little Red Riding Hood." Negan chided. (Y/N) was surprised he remembered that little nickname he had given her those years ago.

"I w-wanted to see y-you," She stuttered, mentally kicking herself. It was like seeing him for the first time all over again.

"Well, shit, I'd assumed that much." Negan snarked with a razor-sharp smirk.

Before (Y/N) could answer, Negan had constricted her throat by his black-ice eyes roaming the expanse of her body.

"Shit," He drawled, his eyes rolling up from her hips back to her eyes. "How long has it been?" (Y/N) was always a sucker for his voice - sonorous, soupcon with the intoning unique to the Deep South.

"Ah...just...just a couple years." (Y/N) smiled sympathetically and grazed her thumb over her knuckles back and forth nervously.

Negan sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, pensively. While his eyes were downcast, (Y/N) pulled out a half-empty bottle of whiskey and two glasses from her leather satchel.

"I brought you some whiskey." She chirped.

"Haha _ -ha, _ you little thief. To what do I owe the fuckin' pleasure? I know it ain't my birthday."

(Y/N) shrugged. "I just figured you could use some company. I know I could. Besides, they were working you a lot today, and I thought this could maybe help you unwind."

Negan stood up from his spot on the cot and promenaded to were (Y/N) stood, only separated by iron bars. 

"I've been running all over hell's half-acre. They've had me busier than a cat covering crap on a marble floor."

(Y/N) giggled as she poured Negan a shot.

"It's a shame they still lock you up at night." She remarked, handing him the pellucid glass. "I think you've more than earned your place."

Negan threw back the shot and barred his teeth with a slight grimace.

(Y/N) poured herself a shot and set the bottle of alcohol on the concrete below. She swirled the sharp, copper-colored liquor. How long had it been since she had a drink?

"Yeah, you'd think they'd be over me busting their boy's skulls in by now."

(Y/N) was silent before a moment before throwing back the shot. It was still a massive point of contingency among Alexandrians.

"Well," Not quite knowing how to respond, (Y/N) tried to remain polite and cordial, knowing that many would have snapped at his throat for the shrewd comment. "We've all done awful, awful things to survive."

She knew killing Abraham and Glenn was not crucial to Negan's survival, but she desperately needed someone to talk to, human contact, a civil conversation. She hoped they could venture into other topics than those of the past. It was clear they were both very different people than who they were years ago.

"Thanks for the drink, honey, but you don't have to risk your neck just to bring me a shot. It ain't a good look. I'm sure somebody's gonna be mighty pissed if they find out."

Negan handed her the shot glass through the bars. As she reached for it, their skin grazed ever so slightly.

"T-they won't. I'm actually on my watch shift now." (Y/N) emphasized by rattling the set of keys clipped to a belt loop. "Michonne is down with something awful, so she's put me in charge just for the night."

(Y/N) felt a familiar scorching sensation creep across her face as she remembered what she had planned to do next. Would she be brave enough to carry it out? Wordlessly, she fished a rusted key from her pocket and stepped closer to the encloser.

"N-Negan..." 

Negan smirked when he noticed (Y/N) rubbing her thighs together, just as he remembered her doing those years ago, right before they were so  _ inconsiderately  _ interrupted by Rick the Prick.

"Lead me not into fucking temptation. I know the way. C' mere, doll." He motioned and licked his lips, inveigling her.

"Just...don't pull anything, okay?" (Y/N) warned in a humorously-shaky and unintimidating voice. If Negan were to escape on her watch, she would have hell to pay from Michonne in particular.

Negan snorted.

"Okay,  _ okay _ . I'll be a fuckin' good boy." 

(Y/N) felt her throat dare to squeeze closed. With her body reeling, she leaned in to unlock the cell door, her heart thudding powerfully as it squealed open. She stepped inside and carefully shut the door back. Now, she was in the lion's den with everyone asleep in their beds, wholly unaware. Every step she took made a faint, dry sound, like the steps of passing ghosts or the crack of leaves, frost-crisped leaves. It reverberated off the walls and rattled in her chest.

Negan's hands rested on (Y/N) 's shoulders before smoothing down her bare arms, raising goosebumps on their way down. She was trembling from the horror of their radical closeness, and the sweetness of that horror. He just a breath away.

He looked more like the 'him' from her dreams - phantom-like. She feared if she touched him, he would vanish into the fire-lit autumn midnight and fade into the distant crow calls.

Up close, she could see his hands were scarred from murder, from countless times cleaning Lucille and having the barbed wire pierce through his glove, and from the fire he wanted to plunge the world into, so it would be reborn and ready for him to rebuild - but she somehow trusted them completely. Her mind really must be in a state of decay. Maybe even more than the walker's brains.

"Ya know," Negan began - his surveying haughty and cavalier. 

"There's something, in particular, I've really been fuckin' missing about fucking, Miss Honey. Something that's kept me awake and craving nearly every night when I damn-near jack my dick off."

"W-what is-"

(Y/N) cried out helplessly and cupped her hand over her mouth as Negan dropped to his knees and threw her left leg over his shoulder with the ease of both skillfulness and famishment. This was, without a doubt, was the longest Negan had been without sex. His voracious appetite was making him desperate and wolfish. 

He admired her thighs for a brief moment before spreading her cunt and plunging his tongue inside of her. He was going to tear her apart. The bawdy clicking as his tongue dove in and out over and over was mind-numbing.

It didn't just feel obscenely good to be licked out after so long, it felt so good to be so close to another human being. (Y/N) was already teetering on the edge of the sweetest death the moment his tastebuds dragged against her the first time.

Her hands jolted forward and tangled in his hair as he licked her out expertly: alternating forceful fucks with fervent, sloppy licks to her clit and occasional harsh sucks that made her toes curl inside her boots. She held on as if he was the only thing keeping her tethered to the earth.

She couldn't imagine how many women he had done that with to hone his skill. She wondered what it would have been like to be one of his wives. Did they get this sort of treatment every night?

He was kissing her below in the way (Y/N) had shamefully imagined he might kiss her mouth. It made her hyperaware of the fact her lips had never grazed hers. The mere thought of feeling Negan's warm lips on hers, beard and stubble scratching her delicate, cherub-skin, made her breath hitch.

"Negan, it feels so…good." (Y/N) whimpered brokenly, dizzy from the pleasure, her hips burning as she squirmed against his face. "I'm gonna...I..."

"Mmm…been a long time for you too, dollface?"

His beard rasped against her inner thighs as he went right back to licking her out of her mind.

"The last time…s-someone touched me there was that…that day in Rick's house." She managed to croak out, despite her situation.

"Oh. You mean when  _ Rick the Prick _ cockblocked me?"

Tears sprang up in (Y/N)'s eyes as the candied flames of throbbing arousal licked up her spine, legs shaking fiercely as she frantically attempted to remain upright.

_ No...More, more, more, God, please. It's a matter of life or death. _

Much to (Y/N)'s dismay, Negan pulled off, breathless. A startling bite to her thigh forcefully drug her from her tottering delirium.

"You fucking loved that, didn't you?" Negan hummed darkly as he watched (Y/N) pretending to remain unaffected, despite her salted-honey essence running down her leg. She rubbed the slick together, gasping at the melting sensation. "Shit, I could have done that for hours, but...you have to understand how hard it is to focus when my fucking dick is tearing a hole through my goddamn pants."

(Y/N) tried to forgive him for pulling away just as she was about to fall into heaven itself.

"Why don't we switch? Get on your knees, doll." He commanded gruffly, his dark hazel eyes flickering back and forth between her own. 

Immediately, (Y/N) was on her knees, staring up at Negan and prepared to take any order he could cook up for her.

"Fuck, sweetheart, look at you all fucking obedient for me," Blushing, she looked down at her lap for a moment. "Eyes fucking up here, honey," he demanded. (Y/N) looked back up at his face, a shit-eating grin spread across it. "There's a good girl," he praised. Pleasently suprised at the effect he had on her.

His tongue dragged along his bottom lip slowly. (Y/N) swallowed hard, rocking back and forth on her knees. The cold cement floor was cutting into her bones, but it didn't matter.

Unexpectedly, Negan leaned down, his hands caging in her face, and his lips capting hers in an instant. 

It was no slow, sensuous caress of mouth and lip, nor the wet awkwardness of an untried boy or a perverted old man. Negan used his tongue, his teeth, and all the ingenious weapons he had in his arsenal at his disposal.

Negan was both the storm and the shelter, pulling her into a deep, comprising seclusion where there was too much to feel all at once - _ hot firm, rough, destroying.  _ She strained helplessly in his arms, although she didn't know whether she was trying to escape or press closer into the hard heat of his body. (Y/N) had feared and fantasized about Negan for so long - a man who could and would possess every last part of her without a modicum of mercy.

"Well, I fuckin' think we need to put that pretty little mouth of yours to better fucking use first." He chuckled as he quickly undid his pants, clearly eager to burn off years worth of frustrations. His hand gripped the base of his girthy cock beneath the dark pubic curls and wiggled it side to side temptingly.

(Y/N) stared with lust-blown eyes, submerged in the masculine musk and heat rolling off of him.

Using his grip to guide her head closer to his crotch, (Y/N) submissively opened her mouth, letting him drive his entire length right to the back of her throat in one fell slide. (Y/N) closed her lips around him and let him fuck her mouth, the salty taste of precum coating her tongue. The hard jab of his tip at the back of her throat made her gag every time, making him groan loudly. The fingertips that he combed through her hair were gripping painfully-hard at the roots. Pushing and pulling to bob (Y/N)'s head in perfect rhythm with his thrusts. 

(Y/N) whined piteously around him as he brutally abused her throat. When he finally removed himself, for her sake, she spluttered and drew in a deep breath, thankful for the air.

He let go of her hair and she sank back onto her knees, still panting heavily. 

"Fucking stand up, baby, let me see you." he drawled. Obidently, (Y/N) rose to her unstable feet. His deep hazel eyes scanned her hungrily. 

He was all buisness. He needed what she had like his life  _ depended  _ on it.

(Y/N) gasped as Negan lifted her body, and with one small grunt of effort, placed her down roughly on his worn mattress. (Y/N) stared up at him, dazed and palpitating. 

"So, what is it that you  _ really  _ wanted when you came down to see me, sweetheart?" He asked her, a knowing look in his hazel eyes. He knew damn well what she wanted, he just wanted the satisfaction of hearing her say it.

"Everything...Everything you wanted to give me that day and more...please."

(Y/N) felt the tip of his cock rubbing against the cleft of her soft, wet entrance. The wet skin of their combined sexes squelching together.

"You better hold the fuck on. I haven't been inside a woman in years."

He pushed until the tip popped inside. A twisting heat reached a fever pitch in (Y/N)'s gut and deaded her senses with a sharp, agonizing vengeance. All she knew, all she could feel, all she wanted was him inside. She bowed beanth the sensory overload and let it crush her beneath its weight beautiful.

"It's..." She didn't have the vocabulary to describe it. His eyes flicked up to hers and he stared cold, almost murderously. "It's so...good...I'm so full..."

He started slowly, circling his hips adroitly, grinding his tremendous length into her sweetest, hidden places, as if he had already explored her body. His eyes continued to bore into hers as his slick brow furrowed with effort. He doubled the speed of his hips, thrusting into her harder. 

"You're singin' so pretty for me. You're feeling so good, huh?"

White-hot arousal shot through her body at his gravelly voice, and she squeezed her legs around his waist urgently. 

"Bet no one's fucked you this good before."

"N-never...I...I think I'm gonna..." 

Negan growled at her admission, his breath hot and damp against her neck as his hands strained against the creaky mattress. 

"Squeeze around my cock. Show me what I've been missing."

(Y/N) wailed, squeezing my thighs around his magnificent, statuesque body as the dam within her broke. She came and came, and came, her muscles clenching in a seemingly interminable spasm. It pummled her, ripping her apart and unmaking her.She clutched desperately at his face as she shuddered, his filthy encouragements extending her exquisite end until finally her body fell slack and her face was wet with tears and drool.

For a moment, through her haze, (Y/N) noticed a look of amusement and on his face as he beheld her before suddenly pulling me closer and violently mashing our mouths together. He groaned deeply as his tongue plunged between her plush lips, almost mimicking the quick jerk of his cock moving inside of her.

"I not gonna fucking pull out. I have to fill this pussy right the fuck up." 

He rumbled quickly before he jerked forward and buried himself impossibly deep, letting out a strangled moan, spilling thick, copious bursts of his release inside. (Y/N) gripped Negan's shoulders for dear life and whimpered and sniffled, still convulsing.

(Y/N) looked up dizzily as Negan caught his breath above her. His usually neat, slicked-back hair was wrecked, and his tan skin was covered in a sheen of sweat, which shone under the slats of moonlight coming in from his barred window. 

(Y/N) laughed breathlessly. He rolled off of her and stretched theatrically before tucking himself back in his pants and zipping up. 

"I fuckin' feel like myself again." He beamed despite his sleepy eyes.

" _ Oh, no. _ " (Y/N) smiled drowsily.


End file.
